


and in its rush we both shall rest

by kimaracretak



Series: the glory and the scum [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death Fix, Cunnilingus, F/F, Romulan!Deanna, Romulans, empathy & telepathy & liberties taken with how both work, fey ladies and not so diplomatic diplomacy, gratuitous romulan language, neuter pronouns for all the q or why bother, rather darker than i strictly meant it to be, sex without feelings (and other lies told by secret agents)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8232482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/pseuds/kimaracretak
Summary: (monster / such a noble novelty / monster / such a proper prodigy): Q shrugs. "I'm not sure yet. But I like you, and the other one. You really should get to know her better. The Captain's fun, but you two..." Ey leans forward, the feathered Empress' crown just brushing her cheek, and Deanna does not flinch. "You two are going to be important."Or; snapshots of the world where Deanna was a Romulan agent all along, and she faces the end of the universe with Tasha anyway





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isloremipsumafterall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isloremipsumafterall/gifts).



> title from delain, ['hands of gold'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F6FNQD5CI4Q), summary quote from delain, ['the glory and the scum'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtaVKW5N_VE); romulan words nicked from [here](http://www.rihan.org/drupal/common_words/index).
> 
> i have been collecting notes for an always-a-romulan!deanna 'verse since ... probably since i saw 'face of the enemy' for the first time, tbh, and these definitely snapshots from the early part of that 'verse rather than a full-on 'rewrite the whole series' take. nevertheless, i think they hold together as a coherent part of that larger story, and i hope you enjoy!
> 
> for [enkiindlethis](http://enkiindlethis.tumblr.com) and the [trek rarepair swap](http://trek-rarepair-swap.tumblr.com/)

It's the ears, Deanna thinks, tracing their soft rounded tips as she stares at her reflection. Fifteen years undercover and they're still the worst part about her new face: they blush too easily, wrongly coloured blood staining wrongly shaped skin. Fifteen years, and this face still isn't quite her own.

A weakness unfit for an agent of her status, perhaps, but she's always taken the more practical view that even deep cover identities can't become too permanent. Better to let them each have their space in her head, each with its own purpose: less-solid echoes of the people she passes every day.

She shakes out her hair, lets the curls bounce across her shoulders. This too is new for her current assignment, and its sheer _weight_  presses upon her more than any thoughts. She hasn't worn her hair this long since she was a child, and she knows were she not so well trained it would run the risk of bringing back inconvenient memories.

Deanna smirks at her reflection, watches full lips quirk upwards. She's wanted this assignment since she saw the odd half-Betazoid that shared her name in the Starfleet Academy class lists. And after years of carefully manipulating her handlers and of stalking Deanna Troi across two planet-based assignments and three starships, with one beautifully executed murder it became  _hers_.

"Bridge to Commander Troi." The Captain's voice echoes in her oddly large quarters.

She taps her communicator. "Troi here."

"We'll be dropping out of warp soon for final approach to Farpoint Station. I'd like you on the bridge."

"Aye sir," Deanna replies, and shakes her head. A ship's counselor with the barest minimum of command training on the bridge, at the captain's left hand. Nine hells, it was like Starfleet _wanted_  her to infiltrate them.

*

She's hardly settled in her chair when the ship pitches down, falling and falling in front of an impossible fence. Deanna grips the arms of her chair and shuts her eyes because she too is falling, falling against a presence that's too vast and cold to be another mind but that's just as capricious, that wants just as much.

She sits quietly through Q's condemnation of humanity and she does not smile, no matter how she wants to. It's uncanny, truly, how many of eir statements on humanity could have been lifted straight from Tal Shiar reports. Still, it all seems rather a lot of effort to put humanity on trial and not even bother to make sure all four representatives were truly human.

Picard conducts himself admirably enough, the android is dull and Lieutenant Yar is ... interesting. Brave and not quite stupid with it, a hurricane vibrating under tender human skin, and when Deanna falls to her knees beside her frozen body hardly any of her anger is feigned.

Still Q's presence suffocates her, a hundred million uncountable minds reaching _reaching_  out with something too tired to truly be curiosity. Something not unlike Q's verdict is drumming against her temples, and she knows better but she is _tired._

The others vanish in a flash of white, and she stands alone with Q beside the fire falls that she played by as a child. Ey's abandoned the judge's garb for the face and robes of a Romulan empress, and Deanna clenches her hand against an instinctive salute.

" _Shaoi ben._  You're everything but what they think you are," ey says in flawless Rihan.

She's not surprised that ey knows, but she's wary of eir game. " _Shaoi dan._  I wouldn't think such a thing matters to you," she replies. Her native language, too long unspoken, feels like an old friend.

"Impertinent," ey grins. "You wear it better than the captain."

"Again. Why do you care?"

Ey shrugs. "I'm not sure yet. But I like you, and the other one. You really should get to know her better. The Captain's fun, but you two..." Ey leans forward, the feathered Empress' crown just brushing her cheek, and Deanna does not flinch. "You two are going to be _important._ "

She's back on the _Enterprise_  before she can reply.

 

 

***

 

 

 

Deanna had memorised the Starfleet and Tal Shiar files of the _Enterprise_ crew before she came aboard, but as soon as quiet falls after the creature that was Farpoint rejoined its mate, she returns to Tasha Yar's files. Tries to ignore the drumbeat still pounding arhythmically behind her eyes, _one two-two three one-one three two,_ echoes of Q's gavel like the march of the end of the world.

 _Superstitious_ , she scolds herself, flicking through Tasha's files again and again. She knows better than this. She _is_  better than this.

There's nothing especially interesting in Tasha's files. Violent childhood on a mostly abandoned Federation colony, an impressive number of martial arts certifications, exactly the sort of Academy grades that a flagship security chief would be expected to have.

She drums her fingers on her desk, trying to block out the one in her head. It would be easier to discount Q's warning if she could be sure ey was _gone_ , vanished into the white after grudgingly declaring eir test passed. But she can't be. She's used to being watched -- _our occupation and an occupational hazard_ , she and her fellow agents used to say to one another -- but not like this.

It's never been like this before.

Deanna reaches for a hypospray and some headache medication, and resolves to befriend Tasha.

*

It helps that Picard is adept at facing the  _Enterprise_  into the most absurd sorts of trouble and saying _engage_ , as if he doesn't know and doesn't care what they'll find. And as ship's counsellor, most of the fallout lands directly with her.

Some of it she could do without -- the rest of the crew is fortunately as reluctant to talk about the aftermath of the Polywater infection as she is, though she does wish she had more time to dwell in the image of Tasha in her clothes than she does. The Ligonian situation, however, has Tasha in her office again, and this time Deanna has a plan.

"I understand Starfleet regulations mandate I talk with you, Counselor, but honestly, I don't need it," Tasha insists almost before she's sat down.

"You were kidnapped and forced into a fight to the death. That's hardly nothing," Deanna leans forward. "There's no right or wrong reaction."

Tasha shakes her head. "It was nothing compared to everything I saw growing up," she says, and Deanna thinks it's time for a different approach.

"I have a better idea. Come to the holodeck with me?"

*

Tasha is fluid, furious, beautiful as she moves through the combat sim. Deanna watches, waits, modulates every one of her own reactions in response.

"You're _good_ , Counselor," Tasha finally says when she ends up flat on her back with Deanna straddling her.

Deanna grins down at her. "My mother wanted only the best for her daughter of a noble house."

It's uncanny, really, how little of Deanna Troi's history contradicts her own.

Tasha stares at her like she's never seen her before. "Well. Starfleet continues to surprise."

 _No,_ Deanna thinks, getting up and offering Tasha her hand. _No, they don't. But you do._

The adrenaline from the exercise ebbs, gives way to the drumbeat more unshakeable than the pain from every time she hit the mat. Tasha's mind flickers against her shields.

_You'll know, soon enough._

 

 

***

 

 

Rakal is close. Deanna can feel her commander's mind through the walls, through the stars, through the cloak that keeps her undetectable. They're not supposed to do this, they have a carefully curated set of dead drops and double agents for Deanna to leave her reports with, but Q has changed things. _Tasha_  has changed things.

 _I want her, Major,_  Deanna thinks. _I want Tasha Yar._

Rakal's silence is stony. The Tal Shiar made her Deanna's handler on the basis of them being the only two compatible telepaths in the agency, but that did not mean they ever got along. _You're letting your emotions interfere with the mission._

Deanna crosses her arms, even though Rakal can't see. _Q changed things, Rakal. We can use Tasha._  The informal is an insult, almost a dangerous one.

 _Just remember who 'we' are, Agent._  Deanna suspects Rakal's quick acquiescence has more to do with her desire to get out of Federation space than actual belief in Deanna's mission, but she'll take what she can.

 

 

***

 

 

Q returns, grants Tasha powers beyond anything a human mind should handle and eir eyes never leave Deanna's.

"Stagnation," ey says, balanced on tiptoes on a rock in front of the assembled bridge crew on an imaginary planet. "It's no fun, is it? Some of us," eir gaze lingers on Deanna, "know that more than others."

She holds her breath. It's a slight she should not stand, but she cannot break her cover. She doubts the crew would believe Q if ey tried to expose her, but it's not worth the risk.

"Therefore," Q spread eir arms, marshal's medals glinting under the twin moons, "a game. For your human Lieutenant Yar. And your ... Betazoid ... counselor. To see what this Starfleet is truly made of."

Deanna breathes again. The drumbeat in her head is quiet, hardly there.

"Why us?" Tasha demands, and the knife edge they are on sinks into Deanna's skin.

Q laughs. "Oh, she hasn't told you, how typical."

"Hasn't told us what, Q?" Picard demands.

"Why, that you're _interesting_  of course!" Q crows. A flash, and ey's taken on Tasha's face. "One human." Another flash, and Deanna's twin stares back at her. "One not ... quite. And so, a game."

Deanna brushes her fingers against Tasha's. "A test, Q means. One for us."

"I've never liked him," Tasha sighs, as over the hill come soldiers.

Game or test, Deanna is not sure it will ever be over.

*

They were friends, of a sort. Cautious, careful friends, before the game. But Tasha greets her coldly after Quadra Sigma III is behind them.

"Did you think I wouldn't know, after what Q gave me? You're  _Tal Shiar_?" she says incredulously. She's skilled, but she still telegraphs the move towards her phaser seconds before it happens.

Deanna sighs, moves just a little faster and pins Tasha's arms to her side. "Come now, there's no need for that," she murmurs.

Tasha could throw her off, if she truly wanted. But behind the anger there's curiosity strong enough to nearly drown it, and  Deanna trusts that it will be enough.

"No need? I liked you. I _trusted_ you. And you lied, about _everything._ "

Deanna _tsk_ ed impatiently. "Now, I would be a poor secret agent if I did that. All the important parts were true."

"Important." Tasha is frozen, Tasha wants to believe. Deanna rests her chin on Tasha's shoulder and reminds herself that Tasha is only one part of the mission.

"Yes, important. Our friendship. Fixing the Federation's mistakes."

Tasha's mind against her shields flickers  _one two-two three one-one three two,_  and whatever else Q has done, ey's ensured that she and Tasha are bound.

"The Federation saved me." A lie Tasha has told so many times she believes it to be true.

"The Federation chose you for no reason and left your world in pieces," Deanna corrects softly. She spins Tasha around in her arms, caresses Tasha's face and wills her to _see._  "I'm choosing you for a reason. Like you chose to save me during the games."

Tasha's fingers tap  _one two-two three one-one three two_  against her thigh. She knows, Deanna thinks. She feels it too, Q still in her mind stringing her along the unbearable tightrope between duty and the end of the world.

"Okay," Tasha says, and Deanna does not smile. "But don't think we're going to be friends again so easily." Her eyes linger on Deanna's lips, and now Deanna does smile.

Friendship is a complication. It will not matter, if she still has Tasha.

She can almost pretend her headache is gone.

 

 

***

 

 

 _You're certainly taking your time, Agent,_  Rakal's latest message reads. Text only, but Deanna can imagine her handler's arch tone, and the guilt of disappointing her is sharper than she had expected. _I thought you were developing assets, not toys._

Easy for Rakal to say, safe at home. Easy for Rakal, who can shape the future without always keeping in mind that she's walking towards an end designed by some omnipotent little _kllhe_.

 _I know what I'm doing,_ rekkhai, she writes, as the _Enterprise_ prepares to dock at Starbase 74. _You talk too much. Wait and see._

There is, fortunately, little the Major can do from across the Neutral Zone. As long as she can keep the _Enterprise_  far from there, she can re-evaluate when Q is dealt with, when the headaches go away.

She is beginning to wonder if they ever will.

 

 

***

 

 

Her human pilot crashes their shuttle on a nowhere planet in the Zed Lapis sector and she ends up saving Tasha from a _sentient tar pit_.

Deanna dislikes many things about the Federation, but she is finding the unerringly human gesture of _rolling one's eyes_  incredibly useful.

Her head hasn't stopped hurting in months.

*

Tasha's skin is hot hot hot underneath her fingers, her voice improbably soft in the low light of Deanna's quarters.

Deanna flattens her tongue against Tasha's cunt and feels her pulse beat in time with the drumming in her head, soft impossible synchronicity to bring the only quiet she has felt outside of Q's presence.

She feels every microscopic movement of Tasha's body and mind, Tasha's fingers in her hair, Tasha's desire rising rising _rising._

They don't need to be friends for this, Deanna thinks as she sucks Tasha's clit into her mouth, flicks her tongue against her _one two-two three one-one three two_. Tasha is an asset. Tasha is _good_ , Tasha's fascination is enough.

Tasha is slick and hot against her mouth, hips frantic against her face, thighs trembling under Deanna's hands and when she comes there is almost only silence. Relief at their mutual survival, is all.

Deanna has ever been a liar.

 

 

***

 

 

Picard calls them both into his ready room. "One of our outposts along the Neutral Zone has gone dark," he says, reports uncharacteristically cluttering his desk.

Deanna's cover is solid. She does not blink.

"Opinions, Chief, Counselor?"

Deanna looks at Tasha.

Tasha closes her eyes.


End file.
